Sleep in the City of Lights
by Plural Force
Summary: [oneshot, MizukixYuuta]  Years later, a sudden encounter in an unexpected place prompts one Mizuki Hajime to drag one Fuji Yuuta all over the city of Paris.


This thing... kind of exploded on me. It was originally written because I could totally see Mizuki speaking French. Somehow it actually got a storyline. Huh. Anyway, it's set a bit into the future, so Mizuki is a bit more jaded than the cunning, manipulative boy we all know.

Disclaimer: I don't own Prince of Tennis. All places mentioned, save for possibly the café at the beginning, are real; I don't own any of them, either.

Sleep in the City of Lights

It was an unusually sunny day that Saturday morning. Light washed over the old stone buildings of Paris, France, adding a fresh beauty to the city that could only be enhanced by the cool, sweet air. On such a perfect day, tourists could be found fluttering around snapping photos like mad, while locals chatted amiably at outdoor cafés. A typical day in Paris.

Among the streets, one such visitor was looking up and around at the many statues and buildings as he walked. He was a Japanese boy of about nineteen years old, with cropped brown hair, sharp eyes, and a small scar in the shape of a cross just visible on his right temple. Glancing around as he strolled down the Pont de la Concorde, Fuji Yuuta shifted his bag slightly on his shoulder and let out a soft sigh. "I suppose aniki's stories do it justice," he murmured to himself.

Yuuta remembered the phone conversation with his older brother all too well.

_"Well, actually, it turns out that my next tennis tournament is going to be in France."_

_"France? Oh, you simply _have_ to visit Paris, then! It's such a beautiful city!"_

Oh yes, Yuuta was convinced that if a person could fall in love with a city, then Fuji Syuusuke was most definitely in love with Paris.

Snippets of conversation in French coming from a pair of college students nearby drifted to Yuuta's ears. He couldn't help but listen momentarily; he didn't understand what they were saying, but French really was a pretty language.

_"...te donne des devoirs?"_ one was saying.

_"Non, heureusement!"_ the other sighed. Yuuta absentmindedly thought that the second man's voice sounded vaguely familiar. _"Les autres professeurs m'ont donné trop des devoirs ce weekend. Je me sens tellement fatigué...!"_

Something bumped against Yuuta as he spaced out; the boy turned to apologize automatically, then stopped.

"I'm sor-- Mizuki-san!!"

It was one of the college students who had been speaking, the second one. Yuuta had thought the boy's voice had sounded familiar; that was because it was. His face was thinner, more mature than it had been four years before, and the Asian boy's wavy black hair was an inch or two longer than Yuuta remembered it, but this was definitely him.

_"Désolé--"_ the other started; then he, too, stopped and stared. The boy's dark eyes blinked in disbelief.

"...Yuuta-kun?"

Yuuta could only stare. It _was_ him. Mizuki Hajime, Yuuta's old teammate from the St. Rudolph junior high tennis team. Throughout the years, Mizuki had been his teammate, his team manager, his personal trainer, and an awkward sort of friend. Although Mizuki had been forced to move to Hokkaido in the middle of his second (Yuuta's first) year of high school, the other boy hadn't been able to help thinking of him every so often ever since.

And, by some sheer force known as coincidence, here he was.

"Hajime, _tu le connais?_" Mizuki's companion, a sandy-haired boy, asked quietly. Mizuki managed to utter a _"Oui"_ before moving to close in on Yuuta.

"Yuuta-kun, what are you doing here?" he demanded, walking forward until he was right in front of the younger boy.

Said boy blinked. "I could ask you the same question, Mizuki-san," he said, slightly bewildered. "What are _you_ doing here?"

Mizuki just stared in confusion. A moment later, though, he leaned forward and, unexpectedly, pulled Yuuta into a hug. "It's been a long time, hasn't it?" he exclaimed.

_What the--_ Yuuta's expression only grew more bewildered. And possibly embarrassed at being hugged in public by another guy. Eventually, though, Yuuta realized he had to return the hug. He did so, awkwardly. "...It's been a long time," he murmured, patting the older boy's back.

-o0o-

About twenty minutes later, Yuuta found himself sitting on the porch of a small café by the Seine, gazing quietly at the view of the Eiffel Tower. Across from him, Mizuki was speaking to the waiter in flawless French, ordering for him.

"So," Mizuki started once the waiter was gone, "what have you been up to these days, Yuuta-kun? I never thought I'd run into you here, of all places."

"I could say the same thing," Yuuta replied absently, shifting his gaze to other man. He launched into the short version of his explanation. "Well, I was in the area for a tournament, and since aniki keeps going on about how beautiful Paris is, I figured I'd see what it's like for a few days."

Mizuki leaned forward in his seat suddenly. "That's right, you went into pro tennis after high school, didn't you," he murmured. At Yuuta's nod, Mizuki let out his trademark chuckle and continued. "I thought so. I remember reading about you." Mizuki was fingering the ends of his hair again. He cursed silently; he hadn't done that in years. Damned habits.

Yuuta blushed slightly at his friend's words. "But enough about me," he said, steering towards another topic of conversation. "What are _you_ doing in Paris, Mizuki-san?"

"I go to school here."

Yuuta blinked. "Eh?"

"I go to school here," Mizuki repeated calmly. "I transferred to the University of Paris last year."

Yuuta leaned back in his seat, contemplating. "...That's a little unexpected," he commented finally. "But it makes sense. It seems like you'd fit in here."

"Yes," Mizuki sighed. He looked out at the Seine, at the stone architecture of Paris. "It really is a beautiful place, isn't it..." He trailed off.

At length, their food came. Both ate in silence, with Yuuta looking at their surroundings-- he _still_ couldn't get over how _old_ everything was-- and with Mizuki looking at Yuuta.

"Have you been to any of the landmarks here yet, Yuuta-kun?" Mizuki asked suddenly.

"Huh? Oh, not yet." Yuuta broke out of his reverie, glancing over at his companion. "I just got here this morning."

"Well. In _that_ case..." Mizuki chuckled again; Yuuta suddenly had a bad feeling. "Why don't you allow _me_ to show you around."

-o0o-

They sat on the edge of the concrete that was the tip of the Île de la Cité, feet dangling over the Seine. Locals were milling about all around them, while the tourists were busy exploring either bank of the river. Yuuta breathed in the cool air and let out a contented sigh, gazing up and down the river.

"Only the locals come here," Mizuki commented. "It's a nice, quiet little spot."

"It is," Yuuta agreed. "Actually, just sitting here is... very relaxing." They had already been to Notre Dame earlier; the beautiful, majestic building had taken Yuuta's breath away.

Off to their left, a boat drifted by, filled with many fascinated-looking people snapping pictures. "What's that?" Yuuta asked, pointing.

"Oh, the bateaux-mouches?" Mizuki glanced disinterestedly at it. "They take you up and down the Seine and talk about all the historical landmarks of the city."

"Can we go on one?"

The curly-haired boy scoffed. "You can go on one if you want to; _I'm_ not." He leaned forward, resting his chin in one hand. "Those are for tourists."

A pause. Mizuki couldn't help glancing over at his companion sneakily. Yuuta was gazing out at the buildings again, unaware that Mizuki was watching him.

The older boy looked away. "You know, meeting you here was... unexpected," he said suddenly, glancing downward.

"Hm?" Yuuta glanced over at him. "Well, yeah. Didn't we say that?"

"Yeah," Mizuki hummed quietly. (Mizuki didn't _mumble_. Nothing undignified like that. No, he _hummed_.) "It kind of... brings back memories."

The younger boy raised an eyebrow at his companion silently, wondering what he was getting at. Mizuki wasn't usually the type to get all nostalgic.

Mizuki leaned back suddenly, letting out a loud sigh. "Why don't we take the metro over to the Eiffel Tower next," he suggested.

-o0o-

"It's... _big_."

Yuuta stared up. And kept staring.

Mizuki chuckled. "Not what you were expecting?"

Yuuta was still staring up. He couldn't help it, really. "I didn't expect it to be so... _big_." It really was. Yuuta couldn't judge the distance exactly, but it looked like a good hundred feet or so stood between each of the tower's four legs.

This time Mizuki laughed aloud. He grabbed Yuuta's hand, pulling him forward. "Come on, we're going up to the top."

"What? No!" Yuuta wrenched his hand away from Mizuki's grasp. "It's too big!"

Mizuki raised an eyebrow and smirked, but said nothing.

"Well, it is!" Yuuta protested. "There's no way I'm going up to the top of that thing!" He pointed straight up for emphasis.

Mizuki sighed. "Fine, you win," he conceded. "But I'm taking you to dinner for this, instead."

Yuuta paused. "...Fine," he said after a moment. He pulled out a camera from his bag, holding it up. "Can you take a picture of me in front of it?"

Mizuki rolled his eyes but relented, taking the camera from Yuuta and backing away. One photo later, Mizuki went back to his companion's side.

"I got one of the legs in, but the whole thing was too big to fit on screen," he said, handing the camera back.

"It's fine," Yuuta replied as he put the object back in his bag.

"...Where are you staying, by the way?"

"Eh... this hotel over on Avenue Montaigne. The Plaza Athénée."

Mizuki raised an eyebrow, grinning. "Not bad," he breathed. "That's not too far from here, either. And I know a good restaurant right on that corner. Let's go." With that, Mizuki had a hold of his younger companion's hand again, and Yuuta was dragged off.

-o0o-

"...Mizuki-san."

A chuckle. "Yes?"

"...This menu is all in French."

More chuckling. "Well, naturally. We _are_ in France, you know."

Yuuta shot an irritated glare up at Mizuki over the top of his menu. "You know I can't read French!" he exclaimed, setting the menu down.

"Which makes ordering all the more fun."

"Mizuki-san!!"

A sigh. Mizuki leaned back in his chair. "Fine, fine, I'll order for you, how's that? Try the bread, it's delicious here."

The two of them were sitting at a roadside table at a restaurant called Chez Francis, a fancy-but-cozy place on the corner of Avenue Montaigne. The spot was somewhat noisy due to traffic, but sat right across the street from the Seine and had a perfect view of the tower they had been to earlier.

Yuuta carefully spread a bit of butter on his bread and broke off a piece, popping it into his mouth. "...It _is_ good," he noted.

There was a rather uncomfortable silence after that. It had only really hit Yuuta then that he was sitting in Paris with Mizuki, _Mizuki_ of all people, his old friend from junior high, a rather eccentric person that he hadn't seen in years. Finally, he broke the silence. "So... you're attending the University of Paris now?"

"Yes," Mizuki replied. "Paris-Sorbonne, actually, but that's not important." He flapped a hand impatiently, as if waving away the subject. He leaned against the table, suddenly turning more somber. "I guess I just... needed to start over."

"Start over?" Yuuta blinked. Was this really the conniving teammate he remembered?

"Yes." Mizuki didn't look at Yuuta. "When I transferred high schools, I tried to be the person I was back at St. Rudolph, and it... didn't work." He chuckled wryly. "A girl I dated in my third year had to practically beat that into my head." Mizuki remembered that incident all too well.

_"So basically, you just _used_ your teammates. Like... like _things_. And when they lost, you threw them away? That's total crap! Everyone loses once or twice, so why the hell does everyone have to be perfect in _your_ book?? And on top of that, you don't care that what you have them do might hurt them in the process?? Do you even _care_ about _other people?!_ This may not have occurred to you, but the center of the universe is not Mizuki Hajime!!"_

Yuuta blinked. "...Wait, hold up," he interrupted. "You... dated a _girl_?"

Mizuki glanced up at him. "Yes, is there something wrong with that?"

"It's nothing... I just..." He blinked again. "Well, all of us just assumed you were gay."

Mizuki chuckled at his companion's bluntness. "I am, actually."

"Wait..." Yuuta's brain was running to catch up. "If you _are_ gay... then why did you date a girl?"

The other boy sighed over-dramatically. "I _was_ always curious to see what it would be like," he confessed.

Yuuta couldn't help it; he started laughing.

-o0o-

"Your hotel is just up this street, no?"

"Yeah."

The two walked along Avenue Montaigne in a comfortable silence. After that incident, they had been back to talking and laughing like ordinary friends. Now they walked down the street that was lined with names of fancy designer brands and the like.

"...They filmed a movie on this street, you know," Mizuki noted suddenly.

"Really?"

"Yeah. In the hotel you're staying at, actually. And this theater right here. That bar across the street, too."

"Huh."

When they reached the entrance of Yuuta's hotel, the two had to part ways. "I should be getting back home," Mizuki was saying. "Wait-- can you give me your phone number? I'd like to call you and meet up with you tomorrow."

Yuuta searched through his bag until he found a scrap piece of paper and a pen, and hastily scribbled down his cell number, handing it to Mizuki.

"Thanks." With a final chuckle, the curly-haired boy was off.

Yuuta found himself smiling slightly as he went up to his room.

-o0o-

Ring. Ring. Ring. Click. _"Hello?"_

"Aniki!"

_"Oh, Yuuta, hi! How have you been doing?"_

"Just fine, actually. I'm in Paris right now."

_"...That's right, you agreed to go,"_ Yuuta's older brother Syuusuke recalled happily. _"How do you like it so far?"_

"It's beautiful. And you'll never guess who I ran into here."

_"Davy Jones?"_

"Aniki! Be serious!" A sigh. "...Mizuki-san."

_"...Who?"_

A heavy sigh. "Mizuki Hajime. My old teammate. Come on, aniki, I _know_ you know who I'm talking about."

A pause. _"...I'm sorry, Yuuta. I just don't trust him is all."_

"Why? Are you _still_ hung up over the way he treated me in junior high? Look, I know he may have been a bit manipulative back then, but--"

_"He hurt you, Yuuta. I can't just forgive that."_

"I know he did, aniki. That was a long time ago. Look, I told you, we already cleared up the whole issue back in high school."

Another pause. _"...Just be careful around him, Yuuta."_

"I know. I will, aniki, I promise."

-o0o-

An annoyingly cheerful sound broke through Yuuta's nice, comfy sleep the next morning. Groaning, the boy groped around for his cell phone on the side table, finally grabbing it and pulling it to his ear. "Hello...?" he mumbled.

_"Yuuta-kun! Wake up, it's time to get going!"_ a familiar voice said energetically on the other end.

"Huh...?" Yuuta groaned, squinting at the lone clock up on the dresser. "...Mizuki-san... it's seven-thirty in the morning."

_"Exactly."_ A chuckle came from the other end. _"So let's get going, there's no time to waste!"_

Yuuta blinked sleepily, running a hand through his short brown hair as he sat up in bed. "...Where are we meeting?"

_"Right outside your hotel."_

Yuuta sighed. "...Give me half an hour."

Thirty-five minutes later, Yuuta was walking out the door of the Plaza Athénée.

Mizuki glared at him irritably as he came out. "You're late," he snapped.

Yuuta raised an eyebrow at him.

The other boy sighed. "It's eight-oh-five. You said you would be down here by eight o' clock."

"Oh, five minutes, big deal!" Yuuta threw his hands up in the air. He was already beginning to regret meeting Mizuki again today. "Let's just go already."

They stopped inside a quick-moving local place for a short breakfast, then hailed a cab. _"Le Louvre, s'il vous plaît,"_ Mizuki said as they got into the taxi. Yuuta blinked at him.

Five minutes later they stood at the entrance of the grand museum. "Even the outside is a work of art," Yuuta breathed as they headed toward the glass pyramid entrance.

Once inside, Mizuki picked up a map of the museum. "This place is huge," he commented to Yuuta as they studied the map. "You'd have to be here for days to see the whole thing."

The two of them chose to wander through the wing of French and Italian paintings. Yuuta marveled at the sheer amount of detail in many of the larger ones, while Mizuki was constantly pointing out things like the intricate ceilings and the painting of the dead cat.

Afterwards, Mizuki waited faithfully on a bench in the lobby while Yuuta explored the Louvre's large gift shop, purchasing a book on photography for his brother. Afterwards they spent a few hours meandering eastward, through the shady, grassy park and towards the Champs-Elysées. Both of them got ice cream, and Yuuta got a chocolate-and-sugar crêpe from a stand they passed. The crêpe turned out to be very messy; Yuuta had grabbed a few extra napkins just in case, but Mizuki still had to help him clean up.

After a few hours, their surroundings changed.

"So this is the Champs Elysées," Yuuta murmured, taking it in. The street was a lot more populated than the rest of the city. The road was extremely wide and buzzing with traffic. The sidewalks were wide. Everything was full of _people_.

"Yes, it is," Mizuki agreed, twirling the ends of his hair absently. "But this isn't our final destination."

"...It's not?"

Mizuki shook his head, smirked, and pointed at the grand arch at the end of the street. The Arc de Triomphe.

As they were walking down the bustling street, Mizuki took it upon himself to give him a running commentary about all the good things ("That café over there is good, I like their pastries") and the bad things ("That's a pizza place over there. The French trying to be Italian. I wouldn't recommend it") about the avenue. Finally, _finally_, they reached the Arc de Triomphe.

It turned out that they had to climb the stairs all the way up to the top. Yuuta had been expecting that; it was old monument, after all. What Yuuta hadn't been expecting was how... _tall_ the stairs were.

"Does this staircase _ever_ end??" he demanded as he made his way up the twisting metal stairs. In front of him, Mizuki just chuckled.

"There are one hundred and eighty-eight steps," Mizuki called over his shoulder. "I've counted." Yuuta only sighed.

After what seemed like forever, the two of them _finally_ reached the top. By now, Yuuta's feet hurt from all the walking they'd done, but that didn't stop him from striding outside determinedly, ahead of his companion.

"...Oh, wow," he breathed, coming up to the edge of the structure in awe.

Mizuki came up next to him a moment later, leaning his elbows on the stone wall by Yuuta's side. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"You can see the whole city from here," Yuuta said quietly.

Mizuki couldn't help chuckling slightly. "You'd be able to see even _more_ of the city if you went to the top of the Eiffel Tower," he commented.

Yuuta punched his partner's shoulder playfully. "Shut up! That thing was too tall."

They stood there for a long time in silence, gazing out at the beauty of the city. Yuuta couldn't help it; he was mesmerized.

A sudden weight on his shoulder, however, made Yuuta forget the view momentarily. Mizuki was actually leaning his head against Yuuta's shoulder. "M-Mizuki-san...!" he stuttered in surprise.

"Sorry," the older boy murmured sleepily. "I'm just a bit tired. I haven't slept in a few days."

"A few _days_?" No answer. "Mizuki-san!"

Mizuki sighed a bit. "I had to pull an all-nighter last," he explained. "I had a ton of homework and I knew I wouldn't have any time over the next few days."

Yuuta frowned at him. "Wait, what? Why? So you could show me around?" No answer again. "You didn't have to do that, you know."

A sleepy chuckle emanated from his shoulder. "Well, if I didn't, who else would?"

"...I'm not thirteen years old anymore, Mizuki-san."

Mizuki laughed. "Sometimes I forget that."

Yuuta looked down at the figure leaning on his shoulder, concerned. "...Come on. I'm taking you back to my hotel."

-o0o-

Not long afterwards, Yuuta found himself sitting on the couch in his hotel room, with an exhausted Mizuki once again leaning against him for support.

"Ne, Yuuta..."

"Hm?" Yuuta answered absently, flipping through a magazine.

Mizuki paused. Maybe it was the fatigue getting to him, but his brain was foggy and he couldn't get his thoughts in order. He tried to make sense of them, tried to figure out where to start. What came out was: "I wasn't a very good person back then."

"...Huh?" Now Yuuta was looking away from the magazine and straight at him, confused.

"Back in junior high, I mean," Mizuki elaborated. "I... manipulated people. Used them..."

"Mizuki-san, you're tired. Get some sleep," Yuuta shushed.

"No." Somewhere in the back of his mind, Mizuki registered that he was babbling, saying things he wouldn't normally say. "I hurt people back then, Yuuta. I manipulated them for my own personal gain, without any regard for their own thoughts or feelings. I didn't even _care_. That girl I dated was right. I was a selfish bastard." Mentally, he added: _I'm more jaded than that now._ He couldn't bear to look up at Yuuta's face.

There was silence from his companion. "But..." Yuuta said at last. "But, it's okay to be selfish sometimes, isn't it? I mean..." Here he faltered. "The one person you know best in the world is yourself... right?" He sighed. "I can't really explain it."

Mizuki nodded slightly. Yuuta went on. "I was a lot more naïve back then, so I can't say exactly what I was thinking," he continued. "But I do remember thinking that you were very... idealistic. Driven. Ruthless." He paused. "And maybe just a little weird.

Mizuki laughed. After that, they lapsed into silence again. Yuuta returned to his magazine.

"Ne, Yuuta..."

"Hm?"

"...I'm sorry."

Yuuta looked up again. "For what?" he asked.

Unseen to Yuuta, Mizuki smiled.

"...Nothing."

They stayed that for a long time, with Yuuta reading and Mizuki dozing on his shoulder. At length, Yuuta yanked gently on one of Mizuki's wavy black locks. "Come on, you, in bed," he ordered.

Mizuki sat up slowly. "But I don't wanna move..." he protested wearily.

Yuuta raised one eyebrow in a no-nonsense expression. He pointed to the nearby queen-sized pile of fluff. "Bed. Now."

The other grinned. "Aye aye, captain," he hummed. As he was going off to the bed, however, Mizuki stopped.

"Ne, Yuuta..."

Yuuta sighed internally. "What is it now?"

Mizuki turned around and, leaning forward, gave Yuuta a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thank you." With that, the sleep-deprived boy stumbled off to bed.

Yuuta blinked, stunned. Then, looking at Mizuki's exhausted form, Yuuta grinned.

-o0o-

The next day, Mizuki didn't remember half of the things he'd said and done. That was fine by Yuuta.

"Promise me you'll call soon," the brunette demanded as the two stood facing each other outside the airport a few days later.

Mizuki chuckled once more. "Not if you call me first."

"You never gave me your number," Yuuta reminded him.

The older boy smirked. "Which is why you'll have to answer every single wrong number until I call you. Just to keep you guessing."

At this Yuuta groaned. "Mizuki-san...!" Mizuki just kept chuckling.

"...Look, just keep in touch, all right?" Yuuta asked after a pause.

Mizuki smiled at him. "I will, don't worry."

There was another awkward silence; neither of them were sure how to say goodbye. "Um... well... I should..." Yuuta stuttered, but before he could finish, he found another pair of arms wrapped around him as Mizuki pulled Yuuta into one last hug. Slightly less embarrassed this time, Yuuta returned the gesture.

At length Mizuki pulled away and patted his friend on the shoulder. "See you around," he murmured as a final parting comment.

"...Yeah," Yuuta returned. "See you around." And with that, he turned and pushed through the doors of the entrance, and was gone.

Afterwards, Mizuki stared at the entrance to the airport long after Yuuta had disappeared, still smiling.

-END-


End file.
